An Unlikely Gang and the Weeping Angels
by oneotptorulethemall
Summary: When the famous English detective Sherlock Holmes and his companion take a holiday in America, they find a mysterious case of a Weeping Angel. Two Brothers (and their friend angel) who hunt the supernatural also begin hunting the exact same thing. And when they all bump into a funny old Doctor and his blue box, the extraordinary happens.
1. Chapter 1 - His Guardian Angel

His breathing grew heavy and his legs grew weak. He was completely sick of running. No matter where he looked, it was there. When he hid inside an old abandoned shed, it was there. The angel. Angels were supposed to be a symbol of peace, of love. Matt knew otherwise. All he did was look at it. Then he blinked.

He ran breathlessly down the stairs and the angel got closer and closer. Matt swore it was just a statue. Well, it is. Whenever he looks at it. But there's no way that it could possibly be a statue when all it did was chase after him with its menacing face and it's sharp pointed teeth.

Matt ducked in between trees; no matter where he looked it was there. He began to lose his breath. He started to get dizzy. He stopped near a water tank, panting. There seemed to be no sign of the angel. He quickly phoned his girlfriend Sarah while he had time.

"Sarah… It's Matt… No time to explain. I love you. This angel… it's a statue… It's coming after me. It has sharp teeth. Its eyes are painted over… grey. It wants something. I don't know what it wants. Find someone who can help, I'm in the park. Help me!" He whispered furiously.

He looked out from behind the water tank. There it was, face to face with Matt. He didn't even get time to scream. The next thing he knew, it was 1850.


	2. Chapter 2 - Castiel's Territory

"What the… What the hell is that? We've never ganked anything like that before." Dean scoffed as he sat down on the hotel couch. Unfortunately, he was used to this life. The dodgy hotel rooms, the smelly couches. He had no idea what was on this couch before him, and he really did not want to know.

"Dean… That isn't an angel of the lord." Cas stated as he touched the sketch. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Well done, genius! If it isn't an angel, what is it?" Dean mumbled as he got his pie out of the plastic bag. Sam sighed, he hadn't seen Dean eat anything healthy in a while.

"We still don't know. I can't find much on it, except on this old website run by someone called… Sally Sparrow. She's in England though so she's no help." Sam closed his laptop defeated.

"So the article in the paper said, some dude was getting chased by an angel, and that's what his girlfriend said. Are we sure this is even a case?" Dean questioned. Castiel moved slowly over to him and placed his hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Dean something is trying to impersonate angels. It will damage our reputation." Cas said seriously while staring into Dean's eyes. Dean and Sam couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh yeah because that wasn't damaged before!" Dean smirked. Castiel removed his hand from Dean's shoulder and moved over to the window, looking out for the mysterious angel statue.

"Look, I'll look up some more lore on it. In the meantime, Dean watch Castiel. He might get territorial," Sam smiled as he opened up the thick dusty book on ancient statues.

"It's going to be a long night."


	3. Chapter 3 - Sherlock's Arrival

Sherlock waited patiently by the baggage collection. It had been a while since he went to America, something he didn't want to make a habit of. He looked around anxiously for John. He seemed to be taking his time. A lady picked up a heavy bag and looked around suspiciously. Immediately Sherlock picked it up. The bags under her eyes showed that she had just been on a long flight, the tan on her face real, might have come from an Asian country. Her hands were shaking and her pupils highly dilated, under some sort of influence. Her clothes weren't expensive, yet she was on an expensive flight. Sherlock walked past her briskly and instantly smelt mosquito repellant. She had been smuggling illegal drugs in her suitcase.  
Sherlock walked quickly over to the security guard at the gate.  
"Excuse me, that woman over there is smuggling illegal drugs. I suggest you get her now while she doesn't know what's going on, unless you like to get involved in public disturbances," Sherlock's smooth deep voice whispered. The security guard looked startled and confused, obviously his first or second day on the job. He nodded his head surprised and instantly ran over to the woman and asked to take her back into the interrogation room. The woman began shouting in a foreign language and more security guards flocked around. Sherlock watched and smirked.

John appeared next to him, just coming back from the bathroom.

"I cannot leave you alone for a second, can I?" John sighed and picked up his bag. Sherlock looked at the newspaper in John's hand.  
"An angel… Give that to me please," Sherlock quickly grabbed the newspaper. He scanned over the article, the one about the Angel with the little sketch of an artist's impression.

"This is extraordinary John! We must get onto this at once!" Sherlock shouted in absolute glee. John sighed.

"We haven't even been here five minutes."


	4. Chapter 4 - Finding An Expert

It was odd seeing an angel in the back seat of the impala. Dean didn't have to drive Castiel around, but Cas loved sitting in the back seat, listening to the classic rock and staring aimlessly out the window. His eyes followed little droplets of water cascading down the window. Sam was also looking out the window, his eyes constantly searching for something that might harm them. Dean hummed along to the Metallica song softly playing on the radio. Castiel cleared his throat loudly.  
"Yes, Cas?" Dean asked, looking into the rearview mirror. Castiel leaned forward, his face close to Dean's shoulder.

"Dean you don't believe that those angels are real angels of the lord, do you?" Castiel quietly assumed. Dean shook his head.  
"No way. Those guys are stone. And look at you! You're not…" Dean paused, and thought whether he meant it literally or not.

"Anyway, whatever these things are, we're gonna find it, and we're gonna kill it. No questions about it." Dean tapped on the steering wheel. His eyes peered out to the road ahead of him. Castiel seemed pleased with his answer and shrunk back into his seat, still watching the droplets dance down the glass. Sam looked down at his book and back up at Dean.

"Dean, I think I just found something. The Weeping Angels. Legend has it that the angels aren't really… of this world. This is something bigger than we expected." Sam stated. Dean shrugged.

"Well, maybe we should find an expert. At least it's not another demon." Dean chuckled. Sam agreed.

"It doesn't really say on how to kill it. And we can't turn up to the park empty handed. We should wait." Sam decided and placed the book down on his lap. He sighed and closed his eyes. He wondered how long this was going to go on for. Just another thing that needed killing before it killed anyone else.

Sam was startled by a strange noise. A kind of mechanical wooshing sound. He peered out the window. He turned to Dean and Castiel but they didn't seem to hear it. The mechanical wooshing sound grew louder and he wound down the window. And then it stopped.

"Huh. That was weird." Sam muttered to himself.

"You alright Sammy? Hearing voices are you? Again?" Dean nudged. Sam smirked at Dean but he knew what he heard. He wondered what it was and if it had anything to do with the angels…


	5. Chapter 5 - Two Patch Problem

The cab that Sherlock and John were catching arrived at the hotel room in plenty of time to book in. Sherlock the whole way up was interrogating the cab driver about America and laws. Just in case he wasn't a real cab driver, he assured John.

When they got to the check in desk the lady smiled at them both warmly. John instinctively thought "not this again".

"Hello gentlemen. I assume this is the queen bed booking for 3 nights?" She smiled and outstretched her hand for the booking information. John scoffed, Sherlock stood absolutely still observing her every move.

"We're not a couple." John whispered at her. She laughed and waved it off. John sighed; he knew he might as well give up. "I shall need a big room with a big fridge. Preferably a room without a balcony but must have a wide window. Can guns be shot at anything in this place?" He hissed quietly to the desk lady. She looked confused and a little scared as she shook her head. Sherlock looked around the hotel lobby and grabbed his bag. The lady at the desk passed the key over to John who mouthed "sorry". She nodded and John took Sherlock's arm quickly and walked towards the elevator.

"I hope we get a clean hotel room this time. Preferably a nice wide fridge where I can keep my samples." Sherlock stated as he pressed the button in the elevator.

"No! Not on this holiday Sherlock. None of that. Let's just enjoy America, shall we?" He said while walking out of the elevator. Sherlock quickened his pace, peering at all the doors suspiciously. The elevator was much like the hotel, slow and stunk a little bit. This didn't seem to bother Sherlock because he was much involved in his own thoughts.

"Now… This angel. From the drawing we can gather it is a statue. But it made the man disappear. No blood, no sign of struggle. A distress call from him to his girlfriend saying that the angel was simply following him, not hurting him. What do we conclude from this…" Sherlock spoke quickly as the thoughts were turning in his head.

"That Americans should stop watching so much sci-fi?" John laughed as he opened their hotel room. The room was small, and lo-and-behold, there was a queen-sized bed. Sherlock put his bag on the bed and quickly inspected every inch of the room. It had faded pink walls with a light blue skirting. The sheets on the queen-sized bed were red and clashed far too much with the walls. There was a little bar fridge next to the door with just a sink and power point for the "kitchen". The tiny bathroom had just a toilet and a shower, which was mostly broken. The only other place someone would be able to sleep is the floor.

"You'll take the bed, I assume?" John said to Sherlock as he placed his bag on the little bedside table.

"I don't think I will sleep much. This angel is too intriguing… We must investigate right away. Come on blogger boy, get on the internet and start blogging!" Sherlock sounded excited as he grabbed John by the shoulders and quickly released him.

"This might be a two patch problem."


	6. Chapter 6 - Doctors House Call

Everywhere Sam went he could hear that mechanical wooshing sound. It would come and go, then come and go, and then come and go. It was driving him absolutely insane. But he couldn't tell Dean about it, there was no way. His brother was always really protective of him, and sometimes to the point that if even the smallest thing would happen, it was an immediate danger. No, Sam wouldn't tell Dean. Who was he kidding, he had to. The last time he didn't tell Dean something he was forced to babysit Castiel.

Dean pulled the impala up at an old hotel. It seemed cheap and nasty, but that wasn't far from the usual. Castiel had still been sitting in the back seat staring out the window.  
"We're here! In the middle of absolute nowhere, as usual." Dean smiled enthusiastically and got out of the impala, "Now, where can I buy me some pie. Or some Asian porn. And no Cas, you're not looking at it. Don't need another awkward angel with a boner moment."  
"I don't find porn to be of any service, Dean." Castiel stated and stepped out of the car. Dean laughed, he knew what happened last time.

"Dean, can I uh, talk to you for a sec?" Sam whispered over the bonnet of the car. Dean nodded.

"There's this… unexplainable noise I keep hearing. It's like a mechanical wooshing noise." Sam impersonates the noise. Dean stares at him.

"What the heck man? You possessed?" Dean looked concerned and reached for his holy water in the flask at his waist.

"No! No Dean I am not possessed. It's like, something's following us. Can't you feel it?" Sam whispered. Dean shook his head and walked off.

"Maybe them hippies slipped something magic in your health smoothie. Come on Cas, let's get us a hotel room." Dean immediately stopped in his tracks and thought about what he had said. Sam suppressed laughter and Castiel nodded. Dean looked at Sam as if you say "shut your cake hole". As they entered the hotel the lady at the counter greeted them. Sam checked them in as Castiel pulled Dean off to the side.

"I am going to explore the small town and see if anyone knows anything about the Angel. And not me. The stone one that is impersonating me. That killed that man." Castiel looked around the hotel lobby.

"Good idea. Sam and I will meet you back he-" Dean got cut off by Castiel's quick disappearance. Dean sighed and went back over to Sam who was picking up the bags to take upstairs.  
"Fourth floor. Let's go." Sam grunted as he lifted up all the bags. The elevator stunk, and was a bit slow. This whole hotel was a bit run down. Dean didn't seem to notice though, another day on the job. As they made their way to their room, Dean saw a person at the end of the hallway looking out the window. He was a tall man, with a big black trench coat and a deep blue scarf. His black hair was slightly curly and his pale skin contrasted it well. Dean nudged Sam and pointed to the man. Sam laughed and mouthed 'tourist'. As they entered the hotel room Dean gave the man a double look. The man looked back at him and watched him enter his hotel room.

"Dude, him and Cas could go trench coat shopping together." Dean laughed as he grabbed two bottles of beer from his bag. Sam scoffed and sat down on one of the single beds.

"So this angel, want to go for a look around tomorrow? Get energized tonight and head on down in the morning." Sam grabbed a beer off Dean. He agreed and sat opposite him on the other single bed.

"But what about Cas? He seems to be… concerned that these Angels are going to take over. It's nothing we've ever seen before, nothing Castiel has ever seen before. We should be a bit worried. Don't you think?" Sam asked Dean as he sipped his beer.

"Look, we have guns. We have salt. We have holy water. Every knife you can think of. If we can't gank it, we'll trap it. There'll be something we can do." Dean seemed so sure of himself. But actually, he was just as worried as Sam. Dean had to be the strong one, since his dad handed him Sam and ordered him to look after him. It was Dean's duty to his father and to Sam.  
Sam lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. His ears strained – he thought he could hear something again. That mechanical wooshing. Sam sat up and decided he would actually try and follow the noise. He stood up and went quickly to the door.

"Dude, what are you doing?" Dean asked. Sam ignored him and went out into the corridor. He continued along the hallway, following the noise. The trench coat man and Sam turned around the corner at the same time and bumped into each other.

"You seem to hear it, too." The man spoke in an English accent. Sam nodded, looking concerned. They both looked around when suddenly the noise grew louder and louder. A tall blue police box was fading in right before their eyes. Sam couldn't believe it, it had to be something supernatural. He grabbed the knife from in his belt and the English man grabbed his revolver. The box had finally completely appeared and the wooshing noise stopped.

An odd man with a bowtie and suspenders opened the door and appeared in front of the men.

"Hello, I'm the Doctor. And I hear we have an Angel on the loose."


	7. Chapter 7 - Mr Monopoly Man

The room looked kind of odd, with all these different people just placed awkwardly around the room. The two brothers were sitting next to each other on one single bed, the two Englishmen facing them on the other single bed. The strange man who claimed to be a doctor was up and about, looking through the room and touching, well, everything. The tension in the room was growing as all the men were just watching this strange Doctor, as he pointed his glowing tool to random objects. Dean motioned to Sam to kick him out, but Sam just continued to watch him. Sherlock and John were sitting patiently, observing the two brothers. There was a strange silence and Castiel broke it by appearing in the room.

"There's a lot more people here than I expected there to be. Dean should I come back at another time?" Castiel looked at Dean, his eyes staring down into Deans. Dean was about to speak but the Doctor stopped him.

"Well well well look at you! You are magnificent! Isn't he magnificent? Of course, you would know." The Doctor winked at Dean and pulled out his Sonic Screwdriver.  
"What's that supposed to mean?!" Dean hissed at Sam. Sam just chuckled. The Doctor pointed the Screwdriver at Castiel and it began to glow. Castiel moved to behind Dean, a little confronted by the Doctor's excitement. He did seem very excited, his mouth curling up into a wide smile. The Doctor couldn't seem to stand still – he was always moving about. Sherlock watched his every move and spoke silently to John.  
"What are we doing here John? You know I prefer to work alone. This "Doctor", a profession he claims to have a PhD in, seems a bit strange." Sherlock muttered. John nudged him as if to be quiet.

"Okay gentlemen. And angel. I believe we're all hunting down the same thing. The weeping angel. Different type of angel to you. An alien angel from an ancient world." The Doctor said enthusiastically. He flicked his suspenders and patted Sam on the back. Sam began to shift uncomfortably.

"Sherlock, it's from another world. Of course you would know that if you actually had any knowledge of the solar system." John laughed. Sherlock shot a deathly look at John.

"I told you John, I retain only important information. Who knew one day I would be facing an alien angel." Sherlock muttered and looked towards the Doctor. The Doctor grinned.

"Look this thing has already killed someone, me and my brother work alone. I think that might be best, we don't want any of you to get hurt." Sam pleaded to the Doctor. Sherlock scoffed and Dean agreed.

"A Doctor? Doctor who? You must have a name. What is it exactly you're a doctor of?" Sherlock questioned the Doctor as he stood up and stepped towards him. The Doctor outstretched his hand and offered a handshake. Sherlock sat back down.  
"I'm a traveller. Just passing through. And I noticed that you four… well five, gentlemen were hunting something that cannot be killed. Well you can kill it but that takes a lot of time and that's not something that you have. It's something that I have a lot of but that's not the point. The angels don't exactly kill their victim." The Doctor said as he walked around the room touching each person on the head gently. Dean pulled away.

"They don't kill their victim? Then tell me, Mr Monopoly man, how did they make that man disappear? Voodoo? Some beam-me-up-scotty magic?" Dean confronted the Doctor.

"Mr Monopoly? I might have the suspenders but no such moustache. Hard to keep track of. Actually, that might be a good idea…" The Doctor examined his face in the mirror, "No, not beams. They send their victims back in time, to let them live out their lives in another time. But they feed off the time energy they had left here. To kill an angel it must starve."

"This is not our division." John whispered to Sherlock.

"You're beginning to sound like Lestrade." Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Gentlemen I am the only consulting detective in the world. I retain only important information and am equipped to every situation. I am interested in this case and would like to be apart of it." Sherlock stated whilst studying Dean.  
"You want to help? How can a detective help starve an angel? Where are you even from? London?" Dean questioned Sherlock.

"Yes. I know where you're from too, Dean Winchester. I know your past, what you've seen. Your family. You love your brother very much, very protective of him and sometimes too protective. You're a proud man with a strong exterior but inside you're just a boy waiting for orders from his father. But where is your father? You hadn't heard from him, and when you did you watched him die. You don't have a home, living in a classic vintage car. You go from hotel room to hotel room. You're in love with the "Angel" and you're quite tired of hiding it. Do I need to say more?" With every word Sherlock said Dean felt that Sherlock was reading him. Line by line. Dean felt exposed. Castiel looked at Dean as if to ask him if it was true. Dean looked away angrily. The silence that followed Sherlock was incredibly awkward.

"Sorry to interrupt this deafening silence but I believe we have a case to study. If you like we can all pop into the TARDIS, take a quick spin and relax on a Greek beach in 1980 and take it from there. Yes?" The Doctor coughed and walked to the door. He felt awkward in these type of situations, not sure what to say or do. Dean and Sam exchanged confused glances.

"Or not. Let's get some rest tonight and meet back here at, oh, well, let's say 9 tomorrow morning. Deal? Great." The Doctor left the room. Sherlock and John began to walk out too, but Dean got up and grabbed Sherlock's arm.

"Look, I don't know who you are, but pull something like that again…" Dean threatened. Sherlock laughed.

"I'm not here to hurt you, little man. I'm here to solve a case. Good day, gentlemen." He winked as he left the room. Dean turned to Sam and Castiel. Sam laughed exhaustedly and lay down on his bed.

"I am confused." Castiel mumbled as he sat down on the bed next to Sam.

"Just ignore everything he said, okay? It's not relevant to the case. I'm going to sleep now. You ladies shut your pie holes." Dean said as he flopped onto the bed. Castiel watched Dean as he closed his eyes and cross his arms. Castiel wondered why Dean was so closed off all the time. Especially to him. Even if Dean didn't realize it, Castiel was the angel that would watch over him no matter what. Castiel thought, if only Dean knew it.


	8. Chapter 8 - Boys and Cherubs

The next morning at the diner down stairs wasn't as awkward as the first meeting where they all gathered in the Winchesters tiny rented room. The diner wasn't much better than the rooms – it was decrepit and musty. The paint was peeling off the walls. And by the look on John's face, the tea was just as good as the surroundings.

The group of men, and the angel, sat around a long dining table in the centre of the room. The Doctor at the head of the table, he seemed to know what he was doing. Castiel decided he would sit in between Sherlock and Dean. He liked Sherlock's trench coat and well, he just liked Dean. John sat across from Sherlock, watching Castiel wearily just incase he made a dodgy move. Sam was at the other end of the table with his laptop open, looking up more lore on the Weeping Angels. Castiel attempted to make small talk with Sherlock.

"England. I went there when I was the lord." Castiel said seriously at Sherlock. Sherlock chuckled.

"When I am there I am the lord." Sherlock looked towards John who was trying to hide a smile.

"I enjoy your coat. It looks much warmer than mine." Castiel gestured towards Sherlocks trench coat.

"Thank you. The weather is much different in England." Sherlock muttered back. The Doctor clapped his hands.

"Well boys and cherubs, are we all caffeinated and excited and ready to face an angel!" He said while standing up enthusiastically.

"How are we meant to actually … kill it?" Sam asked, looking over his laptop at the Doctor who was now wearing a fez.

"We don't. My sonic screwdriver is getting two spikes of the same frequency, we have two angels on the loose. So we need to make them look into each others eyes." The Doctor whispered while looking into Dean's eyes. This made Dean uncomfortable so he cleared his throat loudly and shifted in his seat.

"How do we find the other angel then? And what the hell is on your head?" Dean laughed. The Doctor looked a little insulted.

"It's a fez. I wear a fez. Fezzes are cool." He tilted the little red fez on his head forward.

"Now Sherlock I've noticed your very good at picking up little details. And Dean your good at your… defensive… Mean things. So you two will be paired up! Hooray! Sherlock and Dean out to defend the universe." The Doctor walked behind them both and patted them on the back.

"As for you, dear Castiel, you and me will be paired. Because we're both not very earthly, are we?" The Doctor giggled and walked back to his seat.

"Sam and John, you two together. Now everyone exchange… mobiley-phoney numbers so we can all keep in contact."

Dean sighed and exchanged looks with Sherlock. He didn't particularly want to work with the man who, just yesterday, told him every little detail about his life in front of a crowded room. Whether they were accurate or not.

"Look I'd be better off with my brother so –" Dean said before he got cut off by Sherlock.

"Yes and I with John. I need an assistant and John is perfect for me." John choked on his tea at Sherlock's last comment. Sherlock stared at John who looked away, blushing. The Doctor sighed and sat down.

"I think it would be a marvelous learning experience, wouldn't it! Working with new people, new companions…" The Doctor trailed off. Sam sighed.

"Fine, let's just go. John and I will head into town and see if anyone can tell us anything." Sam stood up and picked up his jacket from the back of the seat. John promptly stood up and looked at Sherlock, who nodded. John smiled at everyone and walked out of the room with Sam at his heels. The Doctor turned to Castiel and winked.

"I don't understand. What is my purpose?" Castiel asked the Doctor.

"Your purpose! Your purpose is to be yourself Castiel! Castiel, what a brilliant name. How's your dear brother Lucifer? Or Lucy, he preferred me to call him. Excellent ballroom dancer. Haven't seen him in… well… a while." The Doctor mumbled as he fidgeted his hands. Dean laughed. This Doctor was definitely out of this world. But he didn't even know about the apocalypse? About the whole world about to burn because the Demons nearly stole the reigns from god? He had such an odd way of communicating, always excited and distracted. His eyes were old and so full of knowledge, but his spirit was happier and more excited than a baby deer.

"Your pal "Lucy" nearly brought hell on earth!" Dean sternly said to the Doctor. The Doctor placed his Screwdriver on the table with a disappointed look on his face.

"Well I did tell him that his anger would come about badly. Well, come along Castiel. Come to the TARDIS and let's see what we can do!" The Doctor stood up and Castiel followed. Dean stood up and grabbed Castiel's arm.

"You be safe, okay? And check in. If I pray to you, dammit you better answer." Dean gripped Castiel's arm tighter. Castiel placed his hand upon Deans.

"This Doctor… Man… Will look after me. His bowtie is oddly fascinating." Castiel removed Dean's hand from his arm. Dean just wanted Castiel to be safe. After all the things those two went through, just for once it would be nice for them to come out unscratched. The Doctor walked briskly with a skip in his step and Castiel slowly plodded along behind him. Dean sat back down and Sherlock chuckled to himself.

"What's funny chuckles?" Dean rolled his eyes and sank into his seat. Sherlock shrugged.

"Your love for that angel is admirable. If feelings were going to help in any way it might be useful." Sherlock stated as he stood up and kicked back his chair. Dean grudgingly followed, he didn't know how he was going to put up with this nut-job. Dean led Sherlock to the impala where the adventure was just beginning.


	9. Chapter 9 - Dean's Life Explained

Dean didn't exactly know where he was driving, but Sherlock pointed out which roads to take. He didn't know how Sherlock knew where he was going. Maybe it was just incredibly good guesswork. Sherlock demanded the music in the impala be turned down and that there was to be complete silence so he could think. This didn't really please Dean one bit. As he moved his hand over to the radio to turn it up, Sherlock grabbed his wrist.

"Stop. I'm thinking." Sherlock turned and watched out the window. Dean sighed and began tapping on the steering wheel. Sherlock shot Dean an angry glare.

"So where are we going?" Dean asked Sherlock. Sherlock peered out the windscreen.

"To find the angel." Sherlock quietly said. He leaned back in his chair and pressed his hands together as if he was praying. His sleeves fell back to reveal a nicotine patch.

"Smoker, huh?" Dean muttered and concentrated on the road. Sherlock laughed.

"No, not a smoker. The nicotine helps me think." Sherlock closed his eyes, "Trying to guess my life now, are we?" Sherlock mumbled and Dean scoffed. This Sherlock guy was way too good. It made Dean uncomfortable.

"How'd you know. Honestly, how did you know all those things about me?" Dean asked angrily. He didn't like feeling insecure. Usually it was go in, get the job done, and save Sam, because he usually had to save Sam. And as much as he didn't want to admit it, from time to time Sam had to save him, too.

"It's easy. But do you really want to know? I don't want you to kick me out of your car." Sherlock chuckled. Dean was getting impatient.

"Come on man. I've never met you before in my life, and the next thing is you're telling me my life story. Of course I want to know." Dean looked at Sherlock. He wondered if Sherlock was secretly a demon.

"Okay then. It's clearly obvious that you love your brother very much, you follow him around and he follows you around. You both know what each other are thinking when you exchange glances, and you're brothers so of course you love each other. You can be too protective obviously because you're the oldest, the way you talk to him like he is little and when you first saw me you positioned yourself so that you shielded him. Now your father. The way you talk and fight, you didn't learn it from an Army, you've never been to one. You've been trained differently, from your father. You are wearing a leather jacket that hangs off your body oddly, wasn't bought for you. It's not your brother's because he doesn't wear leather. It couldn't be anyone else's but your father. But why doesn't he wear the jacket? Simple, because he's dead. You wear it to commemorate your father, to be your father. You're awaiting orders from your father. It's easy to guess that you live in your car and go from hotel to hotel, because of the dry shampoo in your hair and the way you've missed spots whilst shaving. You can't bend properly in the car to look in the rearview mirror to see those spots. I knew you drove a vintage car because I saw you get out of it when I was at the window. An impala, very nice. And last but not least, your love for the Angel in the trench coat. The way you look at him, the way he looks at you. You want to be a mans man, you sleep with lots of women, obviously, judging by your aftershave and your body is kept immaculate. Are you covering up your homosexual feelings for the angel? My guess is yes, but you do also love women. Just tell the angel because he reciprocates the feelings for you." Sherlock finally stopped.

He smirked, proud of his observations. Dean coughed awkwardly. He was absolutely stunned. This strange Englishmen just picked at everything that made Dean, Dean. Sherlock looked over to Dean.

"Surprised?" Sherlock asked. Dean agreed.

"A little, yeah." Dean cleared his throat. He just wanted to get out of the car. He was worried that Sherlock would be watching his every move, guessing more and more about his life.

"You've seen a lot, Dean. How you stay sane surprises even me." Sherlock stated quietly and motioned for him to turn into the state park. Dean glared at Sherlock once he parked the impala inside the iron gates.

"Please, whatever you're doing, stop. We're on a case. We need to be focused on the case." Dean got out of the impala.

"Oh your little minds focusing on the one thing. How I envy you." Sherlock chuckled, "Now. Let's find the angel."

The two men set off into the park cautiously.


	10. Chapter 10 - The Angel Has The TARDIS

The Doctor led Castiel to a small room, which had the TARDIS in it. Castiel watched the Doctor cautiously – he hadn't completely trusted him. But if Dean trusted the Doctor, he would too. Castiel would follow Dean no matter where he went, always would stick by him.

The TARDIS was quite tall, and quite old. He studied the paintwork and the size of it, it would be a bit of a squish for the two grown men to fit in there.

The Doctor winked at Castiel and went to open the TARDIS. He paused and held his hand towards Cas for him to grab.

"Now, Castiel, you might be a little surprised when you come into the TARDIS. It's a little bigger on the inside." The Doctor winked and Castiel ignored the Doctor's outstretched hand. Cas stroked the writing on the front of the police box, reading carefully.

"Police box. I don't understand how you can travel in a police box." Castiel questioned. The Doctor shrugged and grabbed Castiel's arm. He opened the door and pushed Cas inside. Castiel froze – The Doctor was definitely right about it being bigger on the inside. In the middle of the room was a giant electronic base. It had different sized switches and knobs, screens and levers. Castiel had never seen anything like it. The floor under it was made of glass and you could see what Castiel could only assume to be an engine. There were a number of stairs leading off somewhere, but Cas had no idea how this whole room could fit in a tiny blue box.

"It's… bigger. The small blue box… is bigger. You must be a demon. Do you work for Crowley?" Castiel asked. The Doctor laughed and guided Castiel towards the middle.

"Now over there we have the library and swimming pool. Over there… don't worry about over there, nothing interesting. A maze I think. Through there are the guest bedrooms but you don't strike me as one to sleep. Upstairs is the wardrobe, you might want to rethink your whole trench coat attire. A little businessman like, don't you think? And a number of other little rooms that wouldn't interest you. Questions? No? Good!" The doctor gleefully walked around the middle station and flicked switches. Castiel was stunned, standing there watching everything in awe. So many things Castiel had seen, but never something quite as beautiful as this.

"Hey! You know what I just realized? Finally an angel's got the TARDIS! Never thought I'd say that, hey?" The Doctor laughed. Castiel looked confused. The Doctor mouthed "never mind" and adjusted his Fez. Castiel walked right up to the Doctor and glared at him. The Doctor was startled.

"What is this?" Castiel questioned. Castiel was literally 5 centremetres face-to-face with The Doctor, and for once The Doctor felt uncomfortable.

"Good lord don't you angels grasp personal space? This, my friend, is the TARDIS. Time and Relative Dimension in Space. You can do anything in here! Perhaps maybe not order a pizza, I don't think the delivery men would like it." The Doctor skipped off to the main screen. Castiel paused.

"No, not pizza delivery men. They're too busy with their women." Castiel remembered.

The screen that the Doctor was adjusting finally fixated on the park that Dean and Sherlock were in. It zoomed closer in on Dean. Castiel rushed over and studied the screen, raising his fingertips to the image of Dean. The Doctor smacked his forehead with his hand suddenly.

"Of course I can't use this! That which holds the image of an angel becomes an angel! If we come across one on here, it will come into this room!" The Doctor quickly switched it off and Castiel sadly lowered his hand. The Doctor patted Castiel on the back.

"It's alright. We'll see your beloved human soon. I don't understand why you love him though, he seems a bit angry a lot." The Doctor mused as he wound a handle.

"I protect Dean as he protects me." Castiel asserted. The TARDIS began making the mechanical wooshing sound as the doctor ran frantically around the centre machine. Castiel quickly grabbed onto the railing that surrounded the glass floor. The TARDIS started to quiver and shake as it started flying around. The Doctor yelled out in joy. Castiel closed his eyes and prayed that Dean would come save him.


	11. Chapter 11 - The Moose and the Hobbit

Sam and John stepped out of the cab in pristine black suits. Sam's hair fell around his face and he brushed it aside as he put on his sunglasses. Sam was definitely a lot taller than John, who looked like the Hobbit next to him.

The two men were completely different to each other, but one aspect – they both wanted to help people. John and Sam were the more caring out of their respective pairs with Sherlock and Dean. They'd often have to remind the other half of their pair that people matter and to go easy on the witnesses and victims whenever they interviewed someone. John guessed that's why the Doctor paired them together.

They both looked around before they crossed the street to a small old wooden blue house. It looked much like the hotel, about to fall over if a leaf blew onto it. Old wooden beams creaked and bent in the warm sun. An elderly woman was peering out of the window watching them.

"Are you sure this is going to work? You know Mycroft gave me I.D that works in even America." John stuttered nervously. Sam shrugged.

"You're better off being FBI. I know how you feel, I was nervous the first time I did it too. But you've interviewed people before?" Sam asked as he looked down at John. His mousey-blonde-grey hair shimmered under the sun and there was perspiration on his brow.

"Yes I've been into a military base, too. But it's different with Sherlock. I hope no one will cry this time." John mused, remembering the number of times that Sherlock has interviewed someone and they've burst into tears.

The men walked up the stairs to the old house, gripping onto the railing, hoping it wouldn't collapse under their weight.

"Just relax. Do as I do. I'm just thankful you were easier to photograph for the I.D card than Cas." Sam laughed as he pressed the doorbell. John straightened his tie and looked at his reflection in the window. He much preferred to wear a nice wooly jumper than a cardboard suit. The old woman suddenly peered through that window and gave John a fright. She opened to door, not unlocking the chain lock.

"Yes?" The old woman stammered. Sam cleared his throat and nudged John, to show his FBI card. They showed the woman who then opened the door slowly.

"Hi I'm Agent Hetfield and this is Agent Hammet. We'd like to talk to you about a missing person?" Sam asked politely and flashed her a sweet smile. He knew how to turn on the charm when he needed to. She unlocked the door mumbling. Sam and John exchanged confused looks and followed in after her.

"Is this the moment she turns into a snake and eats us?" John whispered to Sam, referring to Harry Potter.

"English." Sam sighed. They followed the woman into the sitting room at the front of the house. The ceiling had started to rot, and the floor was covered in newspaper. Dust was collecting on just about everything. Various photos of war heroes and family were placed along the top of the fireplace, and a great grandfather clock stood in the corner of the room. An old cat scooted quickly from behind the clock into the kitchen. John shifted uncomfortably; this reminded him an awful lot of the old lady that turned into a snake.

The old woman returned to the room with a tray of biscuits. Her hands were shaky as she placed it on the coffee table in the centre of the room. She motioned to the men to sit on the dark red couch. They both seated awkwardly and thanked her for the biscuits while she made herself comfortable on an old blue lounge chair next to the fireplace.

"What's your name?" John asked politely. She cleared her throat.

"Eva. I guess you two boys aren't from around here." She spoke quietly and adjusted her glasses. They shook their heads.

"No ma'am, flown in from New York. We just wanted to ask you a few questions about a man named Matt Elliot. He went missing a few days ago? Heard the name?" Sam asked the elderly lady. She shook her head.

"No but… er… I saw someone running down the street earlier and hid in my bushes. That wouldn't have anything to do with it would it?" The elderly lady asked John. He looked towards Sam.

"When was this?" John asked, his English accent completely obvious in a room of American accents. He retrieved his notepad from his jacket pocket.

"About four days ago. A young man. Looked around 20. He was sweating and panting, I could hear it from my lounge. I yelled out asking what all the ruckus was and he looked scared. More than anything. Pure fear in his eyes. After that he just continued to run down the road toward the state park." She recalled. John scribbled down every detail quickly.

"And you didn't report it?" Sam asked. The lady shook her head.

"There's a policy around here. Don't ask, don't tell. And I didn't want to say a word. Whatever was chasing him would come after me. And I didn't want that fear in my eyes, no sir." She shrunk back into her seat. John and Sam thanked her as they stood up to leave. She quickly stood up and grabbed John's arm.

"Don't let them get you. Whatever you do. There are things that can move out of sight." She cautioned. John nodded his head and patted her hand.

"It's alright, there's no need to worry. Now enjoy your day Eva." He smiled widely and guided Sam out of the house down the rickety steps.

"What do you think?" John asked Sam who shrugged and flagged down a cab.

"I think we go and get ready to find this thing."


	12. Chapter 12 - Sherlock Facing Fear

Sherlock walked briskly through the park, stopping at every tree to look around. Dean dawdled behind him – he would rather be doing this alone. Sherlock, who was Sherlock anyway? Some detective dude who can't get a case so he hunts angels? Dean scoffed at the thought.

His phone started vibrating in his pocket. Dean glanced at the screen. Sam had sent a text. _Go back to the impala, John and I are here._

"Hey point-dexter. John and Sam are at the Impala. Let's go." Dean turned around to head towards the car. Sherlock stopped. His eyes widened and he froze. This could not possibly be explained. Something was wrong.

"Dean… I… I think I see something." Sherlock gasped and stiffened. Dean looked around to see Sherlock frozen still. He rolled his eyes.

"What's your problem? Your boyfriend and my brother are waiting, come on." Dean argued, turning to leave again. Sherlock yelled out to him, still fixated in the one position. Sherlock never, ever felt fear. Fear was irrational, along with other emotions. But looking at this stone angel… fear struck hard in Sherlock's heart.

"Wait… Do you see it?" Dean asked, reaching for his knife in his back pocket. Sherlock nodded quickly. Dean dialed Sam's number on his phone urgently.

"Sam, we have a problem. The detective can see the angel."


	13. Chapter 13 - John Takes the Hit

Dean, Sam and John all stood back from Sherlock cautiously. John ached to go over and talk to him, but every time he took a step forward Dean would hold him back. John felt helpless, he knew Sherlock was intelligent but this isn't about wit anymore. Sherlock was in serious danger.

"Just keep looking at it. We're going to get you out of this, Sherlock." John yelled, Sherlock just nodded. Dean silently prayed for Cas to come save them. No one knew where the angel was but Sherlock, so for now all their eyes fixated on him and didn't stray.

"How come he doesn't blink?" Sam whispered to John.

"When he gets bored he practices different skills. This one creeped me out a little." John replied. Sam shrugged. The mechanical wooshing sound of the TARDIS came from behind them, and the door opened to the Doctor and Castiel appearing.

"I came as soon as you prayed, Dean. Inside that blue box, it's a lot bigger. I suspect he's working for demons." Castiel muttered into Deans ear. Dean chuckled. Castiel brushed off a leaf that was on Dean's jacket.

The Doctor walked towards Sherlock, waving his sonic screwdriver around, looking for an energy spike.

"Now Sherlock, you're doing a very good job of not blinking which is generally the first rule around these angels. Blink and you're dead…" The Doctor mumbled as he circled Sherlock, still waving the sonic screwdriver around.

"Get that torch out of my face and get rid of the angel!" Sherlock yelled as his eyes started to water. The Doctor followed his line of gaze and spotted the angel. He motioned for Sherlock to look away. Sherlock gasped and blinked, he couldn't hold his gaze for much longer. John ran over to him and put his hand on Sherlock's shoulder.

"You alright? Do you need to sit down?" John asked sweetly, patting Sherlock's back. Sherlock dismissed his arm and stood up straight.

"I'm fine. We just need to get rid of that angel. It just kept staring…" Sherlock rambled as he paced quickly up and back. Sam and Dean approached, holding their knives in front of them. They still didn't quite know what they were up against, but it's better with some protection than none.

"You right, Doc? Do you need a hand?" Dean asked the Doctor, who turned around at his name. The all realised at the same time. No one was looking at the angel. Dean and Sam exchanged glances then looked towards Sherlock. The angel was right behind him; it's arms out, reaching for Sherlock. John pushed Sherlock out of the way as the angel approached and suddenly John disappeared. The angel stood, arms outstretched, to where John used to stand. Sherlock fell to the ground, his hands grasping for John, which was now just air. Dean and Sam immediately stared at the angel so it wouldn't take anyone else. The Doctor lowered his head, saddened. He didn't want to watch another one disappear.  
"Where did he go…" Sherlock whispered as he stood up, shocked. "Where did he go!?" He yelled at the Doctor. The Doctor sadly looked at Sherlock.

"I don't know." The Doctor stated quietly. Sherlock began to shake with rage. He walked up to the angel and glared at it.

"You bring him back this instant!" Sherlock yelled at the angel, who, as usual, was still frozen solid.

"Doc, what do we do?" Dean said quietly and put his knife in his pocket, his eyes still fixated on the statue. The Doctor was stunned for words. Castiel was watching all the events from afar. He just knew that if Dean got in trouble, he would swoop in and save him just as John saved Sherlock.

"We find John. He could be at any time, any place. That's the only problem." The Doctor said sadly, looking up at the angel. Dean shifted closer to the angel.

"That's fantastic, thank you. That really gives me a piece of mind." Sherlock spat at the Doctor and walked away, out towards the impala.

"If you two could take turns watching it, that would be great." The Doctor spoke to Dean and Sam, "I'm going to console Sherlock and hopefully bring back his little companion."


End file.
